Thorns of a Phoenix
by ExtraOrdinary.dreamer
Summary: Have you ever heard of the Order, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Yes, Order of the Phoenix?" "No. They've got it wrong. All wrong."-"Shut up mudblood!" Pansy shouted. "Don't call me that," Hermione tightly said. Welcome to Order of the Thorns 2-4 shot DMHG


Disclaimer: I don't own HP

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP **

**Wicked and Vulnerable **

Hermione twisted her head slightly in order to see her watch. The face was cracked, but it being a chunky, plastic digital watch, the time was still decently shown: 7:30am. Hermione sighed. Any minute now, she thought, while trying to return to a more comfortable position on the damp, cold stone floor as her chains rustled impatiently.

A familiar and vile sound of stilettos click-clacking on the tiled floor outside of the Hermione's prison alerted her. She warily watched a shadowy, slender figure unlocked the door and drop the heavy skeleton key in their deep witch robe pockets. No doubt the robe was made of the best fabric in the entire Wizarding world; Hermione wouldn't be surprised of her guess—more so a fact—was correct.

The figure stepped into the cell. Hermione simply bored her eyes into the feminine person's toned and tanned legs. She would've been a lovely girl if it wasn't for the sneer atop of the teenager's face. The raven-haired girl pushed her tresses away from her shadowed face, and then began talking; which was the part that Hermione despised the most.

"Why don't you be a little good Gryffndor and tell me why the hell you accept the pureblood's punishments?" Pansy's voice started as a coo; graduated to dripping malice, and ended in a spat but all together it was much too loud at the beginning.

"I don't accept bribes," Hermione said coldly loudly as well. Both of them relaxed once they heard the guard go far out of earshot. "But I'll accept the torture that is mislabeled as 'punishments' I'm not weak. I can take the pureblood's punishments—unlike you. Instead of pretending you're a pureblood, why don't you accept the torture with the rest of us half bloods?" Hermione continued her face set in stone.

Pansy's face contorted into an ugly grimace. She glared into space as she crossed her arms across her chest. She couldn't come up with a single comeback.

"Precisely my point," Hermione nodded pointedly at Pansy.

Pansy walked back to the door, she withdrew the key once again. She saw Hermione's eyes lit up subtly. "Don't forget, this is a one-shot deal. But, I wouldn't sacrifice my life for anyone else," she warned as she unlocked the door.

"That was a bit too sweet for my taste Parkinson," Hermione noted dryly.

"I think you're a secret Slytherin sometimes," Pansy remarked nonchalantly. Her eyes then drilled into Hermione's shackles, milliseconds later the chains melted away into goop on the prison's floor.

Hermione gracefully got up and walked towards the door.

"Hold," Pansy stopped her. She shrugged out of her witch robe and hand it to her, "This is to cover up the disgusting ruins left from your muggle clothes."

Hermione smirked at Pansy's tough cover up and slid the robe on, covering the large black phoenix tattoo on her back with something tied around its feet and piercing ruby eyes. "Every phoenix rises from ashes—but, in my case, a raven." Pansy smiled slightly at Hermione's metaphor to Pansy's words.

"Goodbye Granger, oh sorry," Pansy apologized at Hermione's wince behind the robe's hood. "I meant, see you in Hogwarts, Hermione Arabell. Don't forget to do some manipulating for me." Both sneered at this.

"That's more like it, and don't worry I will," Hermione murmured as her vision wavered and blurred, she quickly turned back around "And, oh, not all Gryffndors are good," she gave a Draco Malfoy smirk and then . . . she was gone.

Pansy watched the blank spot that was once her "beloved" friend. She turned around, knowing what she would see. Susan Bones shimmered into view. Pansy nodded at Susan who assumed a position on the floor with her knees drew up, silver shackles shimmered into view, glittering like black ice. _One more girl in the Order is left, _Pansy grimly smiled thinking about the prophecy that everyone in the Order had memorized until they could recite it in their sleep.

**Scene Change**

A young man crossed into _his_ unplottable and secret meadow. His blonde—almost white—longish hair swung over his eye. He impatiently swept it aside. He hadn't brushed his hair in over a week, very strange behavior for him.

He pushed his way through the tall, emerald wild grass growing in the meadow that was now almost knee-length. No one has bothered to maintain it—not even the house elves. He snorted at that. All of them had rebelled long ago, as well as him and his father going in separate directions after . . . His stomach lurched. He didn't want to think about it.

Poking out from the long grass were pieces of rounded gray stone. They were tombstones. There were neat rows, and rows of them lining the meadow. There was one sticking out in the very front. Draco walked to stand by the tombstone. It was simple, and plain. There were no frills, or decorations and it wasn't even elegant. Draco remembered the battle that it took with his father to make the tombstone like this, knowing that the person it was reminiscence for liked plain and simple better than Lucius Malfoys' taste.

_Narcissa __Arabell __Black_

There was no time of date of birth or death, it was the same for all the Malfoy family tombstones. Besides her name, the tombstone only beared one other thing, Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven" poem in simple script. Although, Poe was a muggle poet, the Malfoys rather enjoyed his old-fashioned, Gothic style of writing.

He saw something in his peripheral vision. He turned around. A girl with an impossibly demanding presence walked towards him, seemingly bare except for a set of too large, too long black billowing robes.

She gently laid her black-fingernail-painted fingertips on his shoulder, grazing his dress robes. "Come on Draco, let's go."

"Go where, the Order has no place to stay."

"We're going to your house." She instantly regretted saying that as his breath went out in a painful gasp.

"The Malfoy Manor?" He strangled out.

"No, the other house," Hermione quickly added.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Okay."

The two sighed as they enjoyed the solitude of peace surrounding them. Hermione bended down next to the tombstone, she released a bouquet of withered lilac flowers onto the soil. "This is for you . . . mother," Her eyes began watering and she stood immediately, trying to hide her tears.

Draco, seeing this and being deathly afraid of tears, quickly led her out of the meadow. "Ready?"

Hermione grimaced, and then nodded. They shimmered out of view.


End file.
